The House, No. 8. Wharf.
North Wharf Road.
Padd. London. W. Eng.
Aug 14th 1915.
Guess it is a long time sinse I wrote you last, but Harold writes every week, so I guess it is all the same. Well, you see the Darling boy hasn’t forgotten that you will have a birthday next month, Although the present is very small I assure you the wishes are ever so big. Harold helped choose the centre & I worked it. He said it was your favourite colour. I am also sending some lace similar to the other. Harold is sending you a letter today too, from his side of London & with luck you may get them by your birthday. It is my Mother’s birthday today. She is 51. Much older that you I guess. I am most anxious to get that parcel of doll’s clothes which is on its way, but I am afraid it will cost an awful lot for postage. I have got all the ducky little first clothes ready. I washed & got them up myself last week. I am very pleased that I have got 2 of the christening robes & the cloak which I wore as a baby & I think maybe I shall forget to give them back, anyway I think I have first right to them. I have put big white satin bows on the cloak & they are so sweet I peep at them 2 or 3 times a day. Of course Harold doesn’t get excited over frills & bows & doesn’t even know what the little basket is decked up in pale blue under spotted muslin (which was the skirt of one of my summer dresses) & pink ribbons on the handles for – or pretends he doesn’t – What he wants to know is, what is going to happen if it is a boy, & all these things are girl’s clothes he says, So I told him he had better get a khaki suit made in readiness. But he expects it to be about 3 ft long when it is born. Poor me! I’m keeping real well, only get a bit tired sometimes. We have been having some real summer weather for the last 3 wks. But had a few thunder-storms this week-end I don't remember what I said about my young sister & brother to interest you. But there the 2 youngest of the family, my step-father’s only children Mother bore him 4, but 2 died. They are very nervous & the nerves of hearing are not developed enough for them to hear conversation, so they cannot speak for themselves except by lip-reading, which is the way they are being trained at the deaf-school. At times they can hear noises quite well, & the boy is very pleased when he can hear, even a watch ticking sometimes. He is 11 yrs old. The girl is 13 & goes to a senior school – on boarding school lines – where she will be taught a trade according to her abilities, probably some branch of needlework until she is 16, next month. The boy will do the same when he is 13. They are not stupid looking children at all & people are very much surprised to learn that they cannot speak, as they take in everything around them & are sharp as needles. You can’t catch them napping. My young brother Dick who is out “somewhere” in the firing line, although he is only 19 next month is also very nervous & couldn’t talk until nearly 5 yrs old & Mother is so afraid that the terrible strain out there might affect his nerves & speech.
How is poor Greta getting on. It is an awful shame about her money. Her Mother-in-law sure has some nerve to come & visit her after being so mean.
Mother, you must tell Greta & Hazel that they mustn’t have any family until after we get home with ours or else you will be so fed up with Grandchildren that this one will be no novelty & won’t get its full share of attention.
Well, I must close now & write a few lines to “Somewhere in France.” So with best wishes for all sorts of nice things for your Birthday, with Love
I am your ever loving daughter